Us, Again

by Elle Maxwell

Loving him made me realize that anything I thought I’d felt before this—this uncontainable emotion bigger than me, or him, or even both of us together—was merely a droplet and this was a torrential downpour. It was chaos, a madness we couldn’t control, and we gave ourselves over to it.

I’d allowed another person to become essential to my being, to my very act of breathing, and when he was gone, I suffocated.

mariposas, thank

Papillons

Passion is nothing but a temporary high that eats your brain cells.”

she is the best and only thing I want to do with my life.

it is possible to become stronger after experiencing pain. That particular spot will always be a weakness, a residual pain point, but the survivors learn how to grow strong around that weakness. You learn to protect it, to bolster the bones and tendons and muscles surrounding it to compensate, to adjust your movements and behaviors so there is less risk of danger to the past injury site.

Because you know what happens when you lean on something and it suddenly disappears? You fall the fuck down.

Sometimes being strong is knowing when you need to pace yourself, when to take a breath from the hits before heading back into the ring.

Addiction is not cute. It is not something to moon over or wish for in a great love story. There’s nothing romantic about debilitating co-dependence. Obsession is not the same thing as love—the same way needing another person is not a sign of a healthy relationship or a stable sense of self. Because, just like heroin, when the person you’re addicted to is gone, it’s excruciating. Life-threatening.

This is why they call it chemistry. One second we are two stable elements, safe in equilibrium with inches separating us. In the next second, we collide, and the combination is immediately explosive.

Love is fuel that keeps you going, but it’s not a destination. Better figure out what road you’re on or that fuel won’t be worth shit.”